


Caught With Their Pants Down

by betheflame



Series: Shorts & Drabbles 2019 [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Awesome Bucky Barnes, Awesome Sam Wilson, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes Feels, Established Relationship, Established Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, M/M, Sam Wilson is So Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 03:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheflame/pseuds/betheflame
Summary: “Sam, this guy is not coming, the intel was false,” Bucky replied. “I get this whole ticking boxes and what not, but Rogers got it wrong, and for the love of God I need a fucking toilet.”“You need to learn to plan your water intake better, is what you need. You’re a damn fool and I don’t know why I put up with you.”“Because you love me,” Bucky replied, and Sam could hear the smile in his voice.“In your damn dreams, Barnes.”They’d been fucking for about six months, but Sam didn’t want Bucky to go getting a big head about it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Series: Shorts & Drabbles 2019 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1432378
Comments: 10
Kudos: 143





	Caught With Their Pants Down

**Author's Note:**

> To this day, I have no idea what the hell Seb & Mackie were doing in [ this photo](http://www.zimbio.com/photos/Sebastian+Stan/D23+Expo+2019/XegSp5NwH9M), but this is the fic that sprung from it. 
> 
> Thanks to [HogwartstoAlexandria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria) for being the best beta. I'm sorry/not sorry that I forced you into a new ship.

“Sam, just let me stop.”

“No,” his partner snapped. “We have fourteen minutes to catch this flight.”

“But Saaaaaaam,” Bucky whined, as they sprinted through Detroit International Airport.

“No.”

“Fine,” Bucky mumbled to himself, “I’ll just piss in your water bottle on the plane.”

“I HEARD THAT.”

* * *

“How does a city as clean as Tokyo not have public toilets?” Bucky asked Sam in the ear piece.

“Man, of all the things I want you thinking about right now, the status of toilets in Japan’s capital is not one of them,” Sam replied.

The pair were in Shibuya Crossing, the most populated square of human movement on the planet, tracking a potential child slaver and the last thing Sam Wilson needed was his partner distracted by his fucking bladder.

“My dick? You’ve never had a problem before with me thinking with my dick,” Bucky replied and Sam could hear the smirk.

Sam sighed. “Buck, I swear.”

“Sam, this guy is not coming, the intel was false,” Bucky replied. “I get this whole ticking boxes and what not, but Rogers got it wrong, and for the love of God I need a fucking toilet.”

“You need to learn to plan your water intake better, is what you need. You’re a damn fool and I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me,” Bucky replied, and Sam could hear the smile in his voice.

“In your damn dreams, Barnes.”

They’d been fucking for about six months, but Sam didn’t want Bucky to go getting a big head about it.

* * *

When Steve Rogers, retired Captain of the U.S. Marine Corps, decided to start a private security firm with his husband’s money, Bucky and Sam had been the first two hires. They’d each served with Steve - Bucky on the first two tours, and Sam on the third through fifth - but they had never met each other.

Their first mission was not a shining example of team camaraderie.

_“Are you FUCKING JOKING, WILSON,” Bucky roared through the comms. “What kind of fucking idiot do you have to be to -”_

_“Fuck off, Barnes,” Sam cut him off. “It was my call. I had eyes-”_

_“You have worse eyes than my grandma and she’s fucking dead.”_

_“Boys, can we not right now?” Their team lead, Natasha Romanov, interrupted their bickering. “Can we please just, you know, rescue the kid?”_

They did rescue the kid, and saved a painting for the next client, and protected a starlet after that, and then helped breakup a human trafficking ring. And the whole damn time, they fought like siblings who hated each other, but were still family. Which meant that they talked shit to each other all the time, but if anyone messed with the other…

_“I didn’t mean to break his nose,” Bucky grumbled to Steve._

_“No, that’s exactly what you meant to do,” Steve said, “and, I’m not exactly mad -”_

_“He called Sam a -”_

_“I’m well aware what he called Sam, James,” Steve’s voice took on a tone of steel. “But we really can’t go around punching Stark Industries board members.”_

_“I’m fine with it,” Tony volunteered from the corner._

_“You’re not helping,” Steve replied._

They settled into something vaguely resembling a partnership, as long as one considered telling each other to ‘fuck off’ and that they wished the other one dead on a regular basis as a partnership.

The fucking started, honestly, because Bucky’s feet never got good circulation.

They had been working for Steve for seven months when Sam discovered the issue. It was on a two-week surveillance mission in Finland and Sam had noticed that Bucky changed socks about four times per day.

“Do you have a fetish?”

“What? No,” Bucky said. “I just… I have shitty circulation, so my feet are always cold and yet kinda damp and the only way to make it so it doesn’t feel like I’m walking on knives is to change socks a bunch.”

“That sounds,” Sam stopped himself, realizing that it really did sound awful. “Awful.”

“Something about the drugs they had to give me to keep me alive after the IED hit,” Bucky told Sam. “The doctors said it was just, ya know, a thing now and I had to deal with it.”

“So they fucked up your arm and your feet,” Sam cocked an eyebrow. “Damn shame they couldn’t do anything about your mouth.”

“I hate you.”

“Mutual, Barnes,” Sam assured him, as he watched Bucky shove his presumably painful feet back into his boots. “Should I, I don’t know, help wrap them?”

Bucky sluffed him off. “It’s fine. They hurt, I deal.”

There was an element in his voice - the absolute defeated nature of the tone - that twisted something in Sam. “No, man, let’s see if we can fix it.”

“I’ve tried everything. Hot water bottles, blankets, electric heaters -”

“What about body heat?”

Bucky made a face. “You offering to massage my feet, Wilson?”

“Maybe I am. It’s not like you can really do it with the RoboCop arm. Counter productive.”

Bucky sputtered. “Well, I, I mean, well -”

Sam smirked. “Spit it out, Barnes.”

“Yeah, sure, let’s try.”

The foot rubs did help, and they started happening every time that Bucky changed his socks. And then he didn’t have to change them quite as much. And then Sam found himself touching Bucky on the shoulder, or giving a casual backslap as he passed, and once he even attempted a hug.

And so it began.

* * *

“Jaaaames,” Sam moaned. There was a rule amongst them - no nicknames when it was just them. If someone had told Bucky that one of his kinks would be Samuel Wilson moaning his birth name like his actual life depended on it, Bucky would have expired from laughter. And yet…

“Sam, baby, just breathe,” Bucky whispered into Sam’s ear and he slowed his pace. “You can’t come if you stop breathing.”

“I can’t come if you keep fucking teasing me,” Sam huffed out as he arched up.

“Well,” Bucky pressed his forehead to Sam’s, “go right ahead, princess.”

“Fuck you, you need to go a little harder,” Sam breathed. “No, fuck, not there.”

“I was literally just hitting you in that position,” Bucky said, frustration clouding his voice.

“Well, you fucking shifted something,” Sam responded. “Why don’t you, like, angle your, yes, there, that rhythm, yes, James, please James.”

They both descended into moans as Bucky came inside Sam and then quickly helped Sam finish himself off, hands coated in sweat, and lube, and come. Bucky rolled off Sam, and used the momentum to grab the baby wipes off the nightstand and proceeded to clean up their fun. That was another rule - whoever was on top was in charge of cleanup.

“Did you check the mail?” Sam asked as Bucky walked back from the bathroom.

“Yeah, just garbage as always. Are you waiting for something in particular?” Bucky climbed back in bed and curled himself into Sam’s side - the position they affectionately referred to as “spot”.

“I ordered your birthday gift,” Sam replied. “And they sent it USPS even though I _told them_ to send it UPS, but they’re obviously fools and now, you know, it might not get here in time. And I’m excited for you to see it, you ass.”

The last comment was uttered because Bucky shifted to look at Sam with wide eyes. Sam never ordered Bucky’s gifts in advance. Last year for Christmas, Bucky got a bottle of motor oil from the bodega with a note that said it was for his arm.

“You love me,” Bucky smiled and pulled Sam’s face in for a kiss.

“Correction, I tolerate you.”

“Potato, potahto,” Bucky said with a soft tone. “When can you be ready?”

Sam gave his dick a tentative rub and told Bucky a few more minutes. Bucky offered to accelerate the process by sucking him to hardness, which Sam graciously accepted. “You ready this soon?” Sam clarified. Bucky normally liked a water break, at least, between rounds.

“The plug is, well, this one is bigger, it’s the new one, and I -” Bucky stammered just a bit and Sam smiled softly.

“Okay, baby,” Sam whispered as he pulled Bucky to him for a long kiss. “Let’s get going.”

Nothing got Sam going faster than this one look in Bucky’s eyes. Sam knew that it was only for him, that it was a promise, a covenant, and oath. For all their bravado and all their slagging off - these two men were each other’s endgame and they both knew it.

Sam reached around and found the handle of the plug Bucky had put in earlier, making sure to scratch and stroke his ass along the way. Bucky let out a hiss that shot straight to Sam’s dick. Easing the plug out, Sam quickly replaced it with his fingers.

“Oh, baby, you are so open, I could just slide right in.”

“That was the goal, you muppet,” Bucky huffed out as Sam stretched his fingers inside Bucky.

“So this plug gets an A+ rating,” Sam replied, as he positioned Bucky’s hips to allow for him to enter.

“Yeah, I’ll leave it a review, can you please just hurry up?”

“Oh,” Sam replied, quirking an eyebrow as he paused the head of his penis right at Bucky’s entrance. “You in a hurry?”

“I literally just spent ten minutes ramming your prostate, you greedy motherfucker, can you get on with paying attention to mine?”

“So fucking demanding,” Sam said in a tone that let Bucky know that nothing was happening quickly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Sam, please, I’m already a goddamn mess, and I really don’t want to go much further, I still have mission notes to write for Rogers.”

Sam bit his lip and leaned forward to kiss Bucky, sliding in further as he did. “Got it. But next time I get to start and I will take. My. Time.”

“Deal, princess, deal,” Bucky moaned. “Samuel, please, baby.”

Sam tried to find a rhythm but something wasn’t working. “Maybe if you put a pillow under your ass? Can we - because the angle,”

“Right, you’re one to talk about angles, after today,” Bucky huffed as he slid a pillow under his ass.

“We are not having this fight again,” Sam replied as he found the elusive rhythm.

“Well, we’re having it again later, because I love you, but you wouldn't remember to adjust for your blind spot if Rogers literally paid you to do it,” Bucky groaned out. “There, Sam, there. And oh, wait, Rogers is paying you to do it.”

“Okay, if you can still think about your ex-boyfriend I am not doing this fast enough.”

“We fucked three times in a very desperate situation, do you have to bring this up all the time?”

Sam smashed his face to Bucky’s and leaned back with a smirk. “I only do it because it gets you so mad at me you go hard.” Sam grabbed Bucky’s hand from where it had been clutching the sheets and placed it on Bucky’s dick. Reaching behind him for the lube - and not even breaking rhythm and Bucky had no idea what he had done in a past life to deserve this, but he’d do it again seven days a week and six times on Sunday - and he covered Bucky’s hand with lube.

“Come on baby, come for me,” Sam whispered as his hand matched pace with his penis and soon, Bucky came with a shout. It was Sam’s turn to gather the cleaning supplies, while Bucky laid still, feeling like his body was made of jell-o.

“Hey,” Bucky said as Sam settled back into bed and grabbed his phone to make sure nothing urgent had come in while they had Do Not Disturb on. “Do you think the rice needed more salt tonight?”

“I think your food always needs more flavor, white boy,” Sam replied without looking up from his phone.

“I think I might add lime zest next time, could go with the salmon really well.”

“Okay, Chipotle, throw in some cilantro then, too,” Sam said. “Hey, go get your phone, Tony sent a memo about something with Pepper’s kid he wants us to take a look at.”

“Aight, I’ll hop in the shower, you tell him we’ll do whatever he needs?”

“You’ll wear the plug during tomorrow’s debrief?”

Bucky made eye contact with Sam. “I hate you.”

“Mutual, Barnes. Mutual.”

* * *

If anyone asked Sam what his boyfriend was like, he’d sputter that he didn’t have one. If pressed, he’d say that Barnes was a human trash fire who didn’t know his ass from his mouth. If pressed again, he’d say that Bucky was the best man he knew, that he’d trust James Buchanan Barnes with his life, and that he was pretty sure he’d marry him some day if he didn’t kill him first.

He’d also say that his inability to budget his hydration was going to be the death of him if Bucky’s fashion choices didn’t do the job first.

“What the living fuck are you wearing,” Sam asked.

They were attending a film premiere, part of a surveillance gig that the whole team was on. There had been arguments regarding Bucky’s choice of clothing - _I am not going to be seen with you looking like some sad reject from a Nirvana video, Barnes, I have standards_ \- but finally Bucky had convinced Sam to let him choose his own outfit.

Sam regretted every decision he’d ever made.

“It’s a suit! I look good!” Bucky gestured at his white ensemble.

“You look like a Backstreet Boy.”

“We just said two things that mean the same thing,” Bucky grinned, and pressed a hard kiss to Sam’s lips. “Let’s go - Rogers will have a cow if we’re late.”

* * *

They’d been successful in their mission - they’d gathered the intel Natasha had sent them to collect and Bucky had even managed to flirt out some more information from some manager or another at some firm that Steve said mattered. They’d retreated to a private club that Tony had procured for them and had gotten fairly buzzed.

Or, if they were being honest, completely plastered.

“All right, closhing time,” Bucky slurred slightly around 2am as he stood and reached out his hand for Sam. “Letsch get home.”

They decided to walk the quiet streets of the city back to their apartment, stumbling slightly, throwing arms around each other for mutual support, stopping occasionally for a quick make out session against a wall.

About ten minutes from the club, Bucky heard Sam mutter oh fuck under his breath.

“What, man?” Bucky stopped, concerned.

“I shoulda pissed before we left the club.”

“So who can’t manage their hydration levels now?!” Bucky teased.

“Shut up, man,” Sam said, and kept walking. A few paces later, he said, “fuck it. We gotta find an alley.”

“Wait, are all my dreams about to come true?!” Bucky clapped like a small child. “Is the great and proper Samuel Wilson actually going to piss on a wall?”

“I have no idea why this is such a big deal to you,” Sam mumbled.

“Because you are such an ass about it whenever I need to,” Bucky replied.

Sam kept stumbling on his search for an alley, finally finding a dumpster to hide behind. As Bucky kept up a rambling dialogue, Sam broke nearly every rule of decency he had for himself and swore that he’d never do it again.

Which was fine and true.

For a while.

And then there was the mission in Hyderabad.

* * *

“Four hours,” Bucky whined. “Steeeeeeeve.”

“Can it, Buck,” Steve said over the comms. “Tony said the guy hasn’t left the room all day, but that he’ll have to soon for some talk Tony is giving.”

“Some talk?” Sam scoffed. “You have the whole thing memorized, don’t you.”

Bucky and Sam exchanged knowing glances as they could feel the blush on Steve’s cheeks through the comms.

“I’m a supportive husband and you two are dingbats,” Steve replied.

“Hey, ballsacks, can we focus?” Nat interrupted.

Mumbles of _sorry, Nat and yes, Nat_ were her reply and they took their positions again. Four hours soon turned into six, but then they were in business. There was a flurry of activity and Bucky thought for sure they could all be done now, but …

“Sorry, guys,” Steve sounded sheepish. “We need more eyes on the south gate. The one by the temple.”

“That does not narrow it down, Rogers,” Sam replied.

“Right, the one by the temple that has the three elephants on the roof,” Steve replied. “Falcon & Frosty, you head down there.”

“I really fucking hate that your husband’s nicknames have infiltrated this whole operation,” Bucky mumbled.

“That’s not the only thing of my husband’s that infiltrated-”

“HEY NOW,” Bucky talked over Steve’s filth. “Let’s keep it family-rated on the comms.”

“Well, then your speaking privileges are revoked,” Sam replied as he and Bucky made their way down to their new assignment. “Silence as we move, team.”

The team held the quiet until Sam signaled they were in position - where Sam and Bucky proceeded to wait for another three hours.

Bucky had taken at least three piss breaks - finding trees and strategically arranged squatting positions to accommodate his needs. Sam had taken one - leaving to use one of the public restrooms in the temple, but that had involved stripping some of his tack gear as to not arouse suspicion and leaving nearly all of his weapons behind.

As they hit hour three - Bucky noticed Sam’s leg jiggling just a bit.

“I won’t tell anyone, babe,” Bucky murmured, with his mouth away from the comms button. “I swear, you get one free pass, if you hold it much longer you might get a UTI and I have plans for your dick that don’t involve antibiotics.”

“I’m fine,” Sam snapped.

Bucky took his earpiece out completely and looked at his boyfriend. “Doll, just pee on the goddamn wall. Please. I have no idea what your damage is about peeing in public, but I really don’t have the bandwidth to unpack that right now, so for the love of whatever god’s temple you’re about to potentially defile, just take a goddamn piss.”

Sam stared at him for a moment, before Bucky continued. “I’m going to.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.”

“So we do it together, and I swear it stays between us. I swear,” Bucky continued and he was using the tone that Sam knew meant he was sincere. He respected that this was a thing for Sam, but the reality of the situation meant he felt Sam needed to get over it.

Sam gave a quick, decisive nod, and they both ambled over to the wall, making quick work of their pants. The only truly terrible thing about the tack gear they were using was how Stark had designed the zipper. Basically, he wanted them all to empathize with Natasha’s anatomy and not let the boys whip their dicks out any which way. So peeing was either done squatting, or with pants fully pulled down.

Bucky, shocking no one who knew him, preferred the fully pulled down route. On this particular occasion, Sam did as well.

When all was - _ahem_ \- said and done, Bucky started laughing so hard that he struggled to pull his pants back up.

“What?” Sam said, feeling a touch self-conscious.

Bucky didn’t stop laughing, but pointed above them.

PLEASE DO NOT URINATE ON WALL.

“We peed-” Bucky laughed, “directly under a sign politely requesting us not to,” he said between heaving howls as he struggled to pull up his pants.

“What the fuck is happening over there?” Steve growled through the comms. “I can hear you laughing, Barnes!”

Bucky couldn’t catch his breath from laughing, so Sam replied as he got redressed. “I think he’s gone loopy, Rogers. We need food that's more substantial than an MRE. Can I take him back to the base and have someone else cover elephant city over here?”

Steve agreed as Bucky still struggled to catch his breath.

“I swear I’m going to beat your ass and not in the way we did that one time in Tahiti, I am going to just flat out beat it like my mama used to when I was a little shit because dammit, Barnes,” Sam ranted as the pair stumbled through the streets back to the hostel.

Bucky caught his breath right as they passed a cart selling samosas. He reached into his pocket for some rupees and bought ten. “Come on, handsome,” his tone full of affection. “Let’s go back to the room and forget that ever happened except in ten years when I get to tell our kids about how their dad defiled a temple.”

“We having kids now?”

“Well, sure,” Bucky nodded as he took a huge bite of samosa and proceeded to talk with his mouth full, which drove Sam insane. “I mean, there has to be some foster kid out there who we wouldn’t screw up too badly.”

Sam paused. “Well, I’ll tell them their papa also defiled the temple, and we should all be thankful we’re not Hindu.”

“I hate you,” Bucky swallowed.

“Mutual, Barnes. Mutual.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/betheflame1) or [Tumblr](http://betheflame.tumblr.com) for more on these yahoos. You can also submit prompts and cajole me into writing faster - it usually works. If you're on Discord, I'm definitely there, too, and probably hanging in the [Stony](https://discord.gg/z5WSqbS) or [Stuckony](https://discord.gg/jtXcc3n) servers.
> 
> Also, personal note, I've been to Hyderabad and have witnessed with my own two eyes men peeing under one of those signs. Made me cackle then and still does now.


End file.
